


But It's Real

by madnessiseverything



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Happy halloween, Others Mentioned - Freeform, werewolf!ezekiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 07:20:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8436565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnessiseverything/pseuds/madnessiseverything
Summary: He sees the blood, how it spreads across the room in long streaks that resemble both claws and human hands. His vision is blurred, but it’s unmistakable.
The one where Ezekiel refuses to believe it until he has to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween people! This is something I've been working on since the promos came out and my brain started screaming about this. Beta read by the wonderful [Rachel](http://ghostsships.tumblr.com/).

Ezekiel doesn’t recall waking up. He can only recall the color red and the tang of metal in his mouth.   
  
He sees the blood, how it spreads across the room in long streaks that resemble both claws and human hands. His vision is blurred, but it’s unmistakable. He can feel hot pain crashing through his body as he turns his head to face the ceiling. He doesn’t feel much else apart from the agony and the cold floor against his back.    
  
Then all he can focus on is the metallic smell in the air, surrounding him like fog as he closes his eyes, screws them up in pain. It encircles him like a red cloud, crimson even on the inside of his eyelids.   
  
He can hear his own heavy breath, wet and distressed. He feels the need to cough, to spit and get rid of the awful taste on his tongue. He can still smell it, punching its way through his nose. He can’t feel his left arm. He can smell his own blood, how it’s painted across the metal lockers in a world of gray. It reeks of it.   
  
Slowly he opens his eyes and they burn, burn so bad he can feel tears already making their way down his cheeks. He has to move. A sudden bout of desperation shoots through him and he moves onto his side, hissing at the pain. He forces himself to breathe, the raspy sound each intake of air let loose making his hands shake, fingertips pressing into the concrete floor as he tries to gain his bearings.   
  
_ Something flashes past, Ezekiel’s eyes too slow to follow the blur. All he feels is pain flaring up, like something ripped into his arm and tore a piece out. He knows. He should have told the others that the werewolf was still there, he should have run after them immediately. Why did he stay? He clutches his arm and yells at the pressure on the wound. He has to get out. He has to find the others.  _ __  
__  
Ezekiel’s hands ball into fists. No. It can’t be true. He has to be wrong. A lump forms in his throat as he rolls onto his back again and slowly moves his right hand to his arm. He has to check. Something on his chest tears and he can’t suppress the whine that moves past his lips. He rests his hand on his chest and carefully moves it upwards. His fingers get caught on tears and he swallows another sound of pain as he finds the deep scratch running alongside his ribcage.   
  
A small spark of hope makes itself known. He’s injured. The wolf - that thing healed quicker than humanly possible, he remembers - _why does he remember_ \- shooting it, watching the graze heal right in front of his eyes. He can’t be like it.   
  
Painstakingly he moves to inspect the wound on his biceps. The lump in his throat threatens to choke him when his fingertips map the shape of a bite alongside his arm. He can’t feel it when his fingers slip and get caught in the skin. The stench of blood is overwhelming.   
  
_Why is the smell so bad?_ He can’t be like it. He can’t.   
  
_“Things like these are the reason we have the Library,” Jake says, voice loud and irritated. “Look at this!”_ __  
__  
_“Jake, I know.” Cassandra’s voice is quieter, but no less determined and sure. “But you can’t use a rogue werewolf as a justification to lock up magic from the world! It’s one case and people are discovering more magic by the minute!”_ __  
__  
_“Cassandra, look at what this does to them! We can’t let these things run in the normal world!”_  
  
Ezekiel shuts his eyes, but tears make themselves known still as he replays the argument he had walked in on just yesterday. He can’t be one of them. He can’t become one of the things the Library, his _home,_ has to get rid of.   
  
_“It’s a monster. It’s not human!”_  
  
“Shut up,” he whimpers into the silence around him. He has to get out.   
  
He sits up slowly, the room beginning to spin for a moment. He doesn’t recognize the room, and he stares at the scratches in the lockers to the side and he flinches at the amount of blood. Is that all his? Fuck, he hopes it is with all his heart. He hopes, while his throat closes up and his hands shake where they rest against his abdomen.   
  
His eyes flit around, relief heavy when he sees he truly is alone. His heart is still thumping hard, he is still too scared to breathe. This has to be a huge misunderstanding. He must have fallen, maybe that smoke he had seen when they first entered the tunnels had been hallucinogenic, maybe he breathed it in.   
  
His ribs ache as he moves to get up and he coughs, the pressure on his chest making each breath painful and slow. He coughs and tastes even more blood on his lips, but he keeps moving. The world spins for a split second as he manages to find himself on his feet, swaying. He presses his hand against the wall and blinks harshly. He has to leave.   
  
Can Jenkins open a door in this room? Surely he can. Ezekiel straightens up and pats his pockets. His phone rests against his left thigh and he pulls it out in relief. A small crack goes along the top right corner of the screen and he runs his thumb over it before letting the screen wake up.  
  
The battery percentage blinks with the 20% warning and Ezekiel wonders how long he was out. He doesn’t remember the time they went down here. Did he lose an hour? Two? He unlocks the phone and makes it as far as his contacts before doubt makes him freeze. What if he is dangerous?   
  
No, he is fine. Hallucinations aren’t a danger to the Library.   
  
_But you’re not hallucinating. This is real._   
  
“No.” His hands are shaking and he grits his teeth. He is fine. This can’t be real. It can’t.  
  
_But it is. Think. Just think._ __  
__  
He can feel the dull throb in his arm, a distant feeling to him. He can feel an itch on his chest where he had found the big cut. He can feel the blood caking on his skin. His heart skipping a beat, he looks down to his chest and gasps.   
  
Where there was a deep red gauge earlier he now finds nothing but unmarred skin. No.  
  
_It’s real._ __  
__  


**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on [tumblr](http://madnessiseverything.tumblr.com/) about the 20 days left of suffering hiatus.


End file.
